The Broken Genius
by Beautiful-Chaos-Girl
Summary: School-lock AU. Sherlock a new student from a broken home and John, a new teacher with a broken past. When worlds collide, sparks fly. Will it all fall to pieces?


Are there really houses where fires are roaring in the hearth and the smells of dinner are curling through into the dining room? Are there really houses were books stay on the shelves and ornaments don't get broken? Are there really homes where the family crowds around the TV to watch some funny programme? Are there really families where the husband kisses the wife and the children play board games together? Do those people really exist or is it just a product of the Hollywood imagination? Sherlock didn't know. He couldn't decide. He couldn't keep a train of thought with the water rushing past his ears, pelting down upon him. It was too hot and the pressure was hurting his bruises. That didn't matter. It didn't even filter down into his head. He was somewhere deep inside himself, somewhere that he couldn't hear the door slamming and his father's car driving away. Somewhere where he couldn't hear his mother softly crying and the deafening silence of his brother. When the water ran cold he turned it off and got out. He dried himself and got dressed in the uniform he kept hidden in the corner. He had a great many things hidden in the second bathroom at the far end of the house. It was his haven. His escape. He climbed up on the window sill and slid out the window. Anything not to walk out that front door. Not to walk past the room where his brother should have been and the room his mother shouldn't have been. He hitched up his backpack, put his head down and began the walk to school.

He couldn't help staring into windows as he walked along, trying to see what they were like inside. Most of them still had the curtains drawn. That's what you get when you started walking at 6 something in the morning. Normal people weren't even awake. Sherlock wondered what he looked like, this too skinny boy with spider limbs and skin so pale it seemed to glow in the moonlight, skulking around in the murky early morning hush. He found the darkness soothing. The hush a comfort. It wasn't silence, sounds still rippled underneath it but it wasn't noise either. It was the closest he could get to the murmur of a contended house. The school gates were still locked so he sat on the kerb, lit up a cigarette and pulled out his laptop, using his access to the school Wi-Fi to pass the time. 

John scowled, rolling over and hitting out lazily at his alarm clock. He succeeded on the third attempt and finally the bastard thing was silent. Why did they have to hold a staff meeting _before _the school day started? Maybe he wouldn't have minded if he didn't live so far away. But the only reason he was able to afford this place was because it was so isolated. No one wanted to live out in the middle of nowhere unless they couldn't afford to do otherwise. That was why John didn't hit the snooze button and actually got out of bed at the god-awful hour of 5:30. Because he needed this job. Half conscious, he got dressed gather himself and headed out the door.

Because he was the first to arrive, he made a mental note that he could afford to wake up a little later. Well, almost the first to arrive if you didn't count the young vagabond smoking outside the gate. He was surprised by this. This high end of town didn't really get homeless people, especially homeless teens. As he pulled in to the car park the boy stood and John got a look at his face. He actually felt his breath catch in his chest. This boy had a very _distinctive_ face. Definitely a high end family. From the bones in his cheeks to the glint in his eyes, his features were sharp enough to cut glass. His pallor as almost sickly in its hue and the hollowness of it made John feel uneasy. The effect was only heightened by the wisps of cigarette smoke that swirled round his head. He was struck with the desire to do something but nothing came to mind. The boy turned away and he just continued on to his parking space. 

Sherlock took a moment to stare at the first car to pull in. Usually Principal Lestrade was the first to arrive but it was too early for him. And the man driving the car definitely wasn't Lestrade. In fact he was not someone he'd ever seen before. He was probably a new teacher, brought in to replace the old English teacher, Mr Dimmock. Dimmock had officially left due to "health concerns" but the real reason was one only Sherlock knew. Something he'd deduced and made the mistake of letting on. Was it his fault that Dimmock had doctored his credentials and that everyone else had been too stupid to notice? People had been trying to make him feel it was. He wondered if this new teacher would be anything like Dimmock. God he hoped not.

He sneaked into the bathrooms, pulled out a textbook and idly flicked through it. Not really anything challenging. Just passing the time and trying to ignore the empty ache inside. He remained like this, not even going to homeroom, until the bell for the first class rang. 

Well that was thoroughly riveting. John was so glad he'd scraped himself out his nice warm bed for that. You could practically hear the sarcasm in his thoughts. He sighed, plunking down his books and turning to the board. Procedure after inane procedure, whiny request after request. The only interesting thing was when the behaviour of some kid called "Sherlock Holmes" (couldn't rich people give their children normal names?) was brought up and even got this look of horror on their face. Honestly they looked like cartoons. Everything from skiving to vandalism to smoking in the halls. Apparently this kid was astoundingly clever but also the school nuisance. And it was only his second term. No one could understand it. His brother Mycroft (seriously what is with Posh names?) had been a little obnoxious but all around easy to deal with, yada yada yada. This year nine kid seemed to have a school wide reputation. No one had a good word to say about him. John already felt sorry for him and he hadn't even met him.


End file.
